HISTORY OF INDIAN ENGLISH POETRY: AN APPRAISAL

 Book Review: R K Singh

P C K Prem. History of Contemporary Indian English Poetry: An Appraisal. 2 Volumes. New Delhi: AuthorsPress, 2019.

Today there are more poets writing and publishing than readers. Everyone seems to be vying with other in seeking prominence for themselves rather than for others who deserve to be read patiently, explored deeply, and evaluated in a broader perspective. At such a time poet-fictioneer-writer-critic Prem Katoch undertakes the challenging task of writing a History of Contemporary Indian English Poetry. The 2-volume massive appraisal (740+680 pages) is a record and criticism presented with no prejudice except an honest , authentic, and objective appreciation of poets both in the centre and on the margin.

 

The pattern of presentation or the norms of inclusion of the poets is historically positive enough to help future researchers and historians follow a balanced critical perspective than what we have noticed so far. 

 

PCK Prem discusses the works of over 135 male and 50 female poets to highlight the contemporary trends, the native poetic ethos, and the essential secular makeup of the Indian mind as reflected in their works.

 

Prem's intuitive approach, "appraisal and analysis sans prejudices, specific and predetermined notions from various perspectives take one to the conclusion that poetry defines and construes life in totality".

 

Prem accords fresh life to some of the poets whose excellence has been ignored by the mainstream academia professing expertise in Indian English Writing. I would like to mention in particular Maha Nand Sharma, Rachakonda Narasimha Sarma, Srinivas Rangaswami, Keshav Malik, R. Rabindranath Menon, D S Maini, H S Bhatia, VVB Ramarao, R C Shukla, S L Peeran, T V Reddy, R K Bhushan, P K Joy, P Raja, Manas Bakshi, Kanwar Dinesh Singh etc.   I have, however, reservations about certain names as critics, but Prem might not have had access to works of others who have contributed as critics.

 

Kudos to PCK Prem for his large-hearted support and commitment to the cause of Indian English Poetry. 

 

--Professor R K Singh

 

 

 

Sahitya Akademi Gujrat and Motivational Strips Honours

 

The River Returns: A Review by Narayanan Raghunathan

 

The River Returns  

Professor R.K Singh is truly a multifaceted personality. First he is a professor and head of the Department of English and Social Sciences at the Indian School of Mines, Dhanbad. His  main fields of interest consist of Indian English Writing, especially poetry and English for specific purposes, especially for Science and Technology. He has authored over 150 academic articles, 160 book reviews and 30 books including ten collections of poems !! Very versatile and prolific indeed! 

His poems have been anthologized in over 140 publications and translated into many languages  

The first thing that I noticed about the book “The River Returns” was its elegant cover design. It uses very simple but perfect lines to outline a female nude. I instantly felt familiar and soon re-cognized it as Matisse’s famous drawing. I checked inside and read, ‘cover design recreated from “Nude” by Henri Matisse’. I was very fond of Matisse and this became an ambient personal introduction to the book. [ I felt that the Matisse lines have been thickened in the design which was not necessary in my opinion. (or am I imagining !) ]  

This book has two sections Part 1] consisting of  140 Tanka  Part 2] consisting of 365 Haiku . It must be one of the first book(s) ever published on Tanka and Haiku in English in India and the very prolific abundance is admirable. 

We will deal with the Tanka section first and wade through a few Tanka. Tanka was originally love poetry and continues to be so intrinsically : here in these Tanka by R.K Singh,  love manifesting, hope of love deeply enhanced by nature’s myriad wonders of perception etc. are  major themes that find varied structural and aesthetic elucidations ~~ 

 

“Unrealized bliss”  “rains love and delight”  in the following lyrical Tanka  ~~ 

 

She hears the voice
of unrealized bliss in
the coos of koel
at the window sill this evening
rains love and delight 

 

The passion of waiting for the tryst “at moonrise among flowers” “sparkles a secret on her smiling face” here ~~ 

 

His message to meet
at moonrise among the flowers
sparkles a secret
on her smiling face passion
glows with charming fervour 

 

Waxing and waning like the moon  in ancient cosmic Rtam ~~ 

 

She is no moon yet
she drifts like the moon, takes care
of him from the sky-
meets him for a short, waxing
leaves him for a long, waning 

 

The geometric formation of a woman in river waters inspires the following special tanka: It is more neutral [ not personal ] observation though sensuous in its subtler enhancements. ~~ 

 

At the river
she folds her arms and legs
resting her head
upon the knees and sits
as an island  

 

The Cosmic Rtam is referred again and the poet sees the Cosmic Mother Aditi in his beloved’s eyes ~~ 

 

Life limits between
whence the sun rise and where
it goes to relax:
joys of a fleeting moment
I see Aditi in your eyes 

 

A little drink, anarchy and epicurean refinements too discover a Dionysian fulfillment in some Tanka like this one ~~  

 

Drinking evening star
blue green patterns before eyes
no meditation
no god visits to forgive
the sinning soul in solitude  

 

Of course the physical ailments of the body also  surface for tentative attention in a gently mocking tragic irony as the poet “looking for the inhaler” breathing pipe choked with coloured dust ~~ 

 

Breathing pipe choked
with coloured dust celebrate
spring in coalfield:
the moon mocks my nightly plight
I look for the inhaler 

 

Very deeply angst ridden one that finds a way out of the entrapment in the sun’s antidote ~~  

 

I lost my sleep
over a thought I could not
make my own:
the sun’s antidote changed
the voice of the wind 

 

There are ‘shasei’ sentient  ‘aware’ invoking Tanka enhanced by ‘wabi/sabi’ like this imagist one immersed in Zen. 

 

A cloud-eagle
curves  to the haze
in the west
skimming the sail
on soundless sea  

 

Here is a strange and beautiful one with a hidden lyrical narrative and metaphysical resonance as the toddler / in thin sun awaits / her mom from the sea” ~~ 

 

Digging sand
with her little toes
the toddler
in thin sun awaits
her mom from the sea  

 

But anxieties have no escape and insomnia is a perpetual agony for the poet. Unlike many others here the poet talks about his personal pains which seem to be a part of the Cosmic Dukkha ~~ 

 

I thought I’d exchange
my anxieties for a bit
of peace but thinking
was easier than happening:
I couldn’t even sleep  

 

Fearsome nightmares and sleepless deeper darkness envelop the night(s)! 

 

I fear the demons
rising from my body
at midnight crowding
the mind and leading the soul
to deeper darkness 

 

The insomniac poet is in agony ruthless seeing with no self aggrandizement: survives one more nightmare: it looks fearsome if one tries to imagine what he says! 

 

An insomniac
weak with desires and prayers
hears the heartbeats
rising fast with dark hours
survives one more nightmare  

 

But surely there are gentler moments when “seven times he moves round  the vermillion god under the peepal sprinkling water ~~~~ ? 

 

Seven times he moves
round the vermillion god
under the peepal
sprinkling water to escape
the malefic Saturn 

 

Of course the poet can’t escape nor deny poetic lyric so here is one of RK’s beautiful and highly evocative Tanka with a cosmic perception ~~ 

 

Gentle like a dove
love was graceful a night away
on the white wave it’s
a sea searching ways leaps to
eternity tonight  

 

But meticulously he affirms almost immediately ~~ 

 

I’m no romantic
turning sufferings to bliss
and delude in
heavenly meeting with god
or life’s grandeur and greatness  

 

Again insists with a vehemence and even hidden pain about his unavoidable human predicament ~~  

 

I’m human and feel
their meanness every moment
get angry and lose
my sleep as the earth writhes in
the pain butcher’s knives inflict  

 

But there is the hope in poetry and prayer despite God’s nonchalant silence ~~  

 

There’s little save
poetry and prayer
to put up with
rising darkness in and out
and god too is silent  

 

There is a sad tragic reminiscence like this one: The poet also creates Tanka out of his unhappiness ~~ 

 

Couldn’t be happy with
my present nor could realize
any dreams all these years-
there’s nothing to look back
to say I lived my life well  

 

A strange esoteric mystery pervades the spirit of this brilliant Tanka ~~

 

Inside me
the whispers of the forest
will be quiet:
no tree will know
what the weather was like  

 

But surely there is “divinity unrealized in soul” is expressed eloquently as below in some Tanka.

 

The sun
on a mountain
grave illumines the path
to divinity unrealized
in soul  

 

Also, just brilliant imagist Tanka  very self-satisfactory  without critical comments ~~

 

With steel flow
the rolling water
pierces the rocks
shapes them into stars
turned into river’s song 

 

There are humorous one filled with sad wabi-sabi  ~~ 

 

She visits
a beauty parlour
to erase wrinkles
and returns with the same
wintry darkness  

 

Deeply meditative Buddha’s image in Padmaasana too finds way into one of the Tanka ~~  
 

 

At the river-front
in-drawn with Buddha’s image
in padmasana
eyes half-closed, meditating
his eyes not yet opened  

 

A somewhat disturbing sentient experience inspires the following Tanka 

 

Stray fungi grow
on the broken window frames
beside my bed
watery smell swells as if
a corpse in the river  

 

The Great Kumbh Mela finds a subdued expression ~~

Feeling the difference
between a tin house and
a weather proof tent:
on the Yamuna’s bank
Kumbh deluge to wash sins   

 

Very expressionistic and philosophically inspired Tanka also have their special place ~~ 

 

With black and white marks
and nest of ants on its skin
the tree grows taller
shining through the geometry
of sun, moon and halogen 

 

About layers of “dust thickening on the mirror”, “the stains” that “stay like sin” despite perpetual wiping  ~~ 

 

Layers of dust thicken
on the mirror water makes
the smut prominent:
I wipe and wipe and yet
the stains stay like sin 

 

A very deeply symbolic one about life and river and finding way in life ~~ 

 

I’m no river
flowing towards the sea:
I must find my  way
asking strangers in strange places
sensing soul, using insight 

 

Remarkably gentle Zen inspired imagist Tanka like a divine dream   ~~

 

The otter watches
a duck walking on
the frozen river
icicles drop bit by bit
from a lone tree  

 

Perfect human observations find their hidden poetry in some like this ~~ 

 

Peeling the orange
with manicured fingers:
she slits the rind from
top to bottom, separates
each section with artistry  

 

The eternal journey and eternal duel and the resolutions surely are part of the Tanka experience ~~ 

 

One thousand miles
traveling together
in tense silence
he and she contemplate
the next round of duel  

 

There are also difficult to decipher ones rooted in aware ( eternal transience )  ~~ 

 

Time is running out
cracks in walls develop fast
but I stay static
shrouded in cobweb, brooding
as if in dusk, denying death 

 

The physical pains and the occasional union in sleep of the insomniac with God is referred below ~~  

 

Each night speaks to me
in flatulence, wheezing
and pain in the legs:
god intervenes at times
in momentary union  

 

But with “years of rubbish he reeks of aborted dreams" as he rots in the "marsh" "like a frog" "cut off from the running source”  ~~

 

With years of rubbish
he reeks of aborted dreams
lives a stagnant pool
cut off from the running source
rots in the marsh like a frog  

 

The insomnia seems to be a perpetual unwanted companion and theme for Tanka inevitably again and again ! 

 

Lying all day
with pain in the heels
and sinking heart
I read tanka and wait
for miracle to sleep  

 

Now there are of course Tanka that express social concern and personal political indignation  ~~

 

With moral twists
name of god or religion
they fly planes to bomb
sheep of his pasture and
expect grace for humankind  

 

Where they preach peace with politics of terror  ~~

 

Preaching peace
explode ‘plane bomb, car bomb
human bomb
and bluff the living corpses
with politics of terror 

 

and the poet wonders how god condones the vague prophets and their cults  ~~

 

They claim to kill satan
mass murder innocents
and blow themselves up:
I wonder how god condones
vague prophets and their cult  

 

Here is a deeply personal one about the poet’s son working in the Armed Forces near the border where war may break out any moment where he must kill and live to kill ~~ 

 

From the border rings
he’s stationed dangerously:
any moment war
may break out for their follies
he must kill and live …. to kill 

 

A very strange memory of walking through a slum when “dogs bark to alert the dwellers to the presence of a stranger” finds a perfect expression in this Tanka. 

 

Naked children crowd
as I pass through the alleys
between smelly slums:
dogs bark to alert them to
the presence of a stranger 

 

But sensual ambience reigns in many of  Prof. Singh’s Tanka like this gentle lotus fragranced one ~~ 

 

Her letter smells
the lotus she wore each time
meeting in the dark:
I touch her fingers again
with all the hopes and passions 

 

Hilarious and romantic moods merge in this Tanka invoking the monsoon 

 

Waving arms of trees
conspire with overcast day
to drench again
the two of us look for shade
under leaking umbrella 

 

The Tanka section closes with the dead silence at sea when the poet surreally pulls down chunks of sky 

 

Awaiting the wave
that’ll wash away empty hours
and endless longing
in this dead silence at sea
I pull down chunks of sky  

 

The Haiku section begins gently with a few mutually related(linked) Haiku on hibiscus and there are spiders and webs The special meta-animism  is self-evident in the  following ~~

 

Haiku Oleander and
hibiscus blaze with passion
making love in sun 

 

Hibiscus seems to enthrall him and he finds it anew ~~

 

Suspended
on the spider’s web
a hibiscus 

 

and escapes the snares of a spider web here ~~

 

Narrowly escape
the midair web of spider
perched on hibiscus

 

But hibiscus is sacred when used for worship, so wash your hands before you touch them as the following haiku reveals ~~


Without washing hands
he touches hibiscus for worship:
her frowning glance    

 

“Chrysanthemum” flowers in divine abandon and is even growing in odd places like a "mossy roof " ~~ 

 

Chrysanthemum
on the mossy roof
deeply rooted 

 

He surely captures a huge spider between two roses ~~ 

 

Too big for its web
between two roses-
a yellow spider 

 

A lone pomegranate manifests from dense fog here  ~~

 

Shrouded in fog
the lone pomegranate
in the courtyard. 

 

An ordinary observation gets elevated to a haiku here ~~

 

Lying in the dust
a guava bitten off
by the parrots 

 

Leaves of trees become meta-beings wanting to fly in this Haiku ~~ 

 

Leaves sway
to fly like birds
free in sky 

 

The hill is veiling her breasts and blushing like a maiden in this poetic Haiku ~~

 

Veiling her breasts
with the season’s first snows
the hill blushes 

 

Transparent, explicitly shasei but still subtle Haiku  too find a voice here ~~ 

 

On a lean
branch of neem swinging
a bulbul 

 

A clean haiku painting is coaxed in a few syllables like this ~~

 

Painting
spring with willow
as brush 

 

His wife appears in some Haiku in domestic freedom unaware of her physical appearance ~~  

 

With her saree
hitched up between the legs
my wife in bed  

 

The newly wed wife rises early to please  and make all happy ~~  

 

Rising early
to make tea for everyone
the newly wed wife 

 

Pain of separation from beloved children finds its expression on the Diwali day ~~  

 

No joy in lighting
the candles this Diwali
both the children away  

 

The son working in the army on the dangerous border invokes this eerie death inspired haiku ~~  

 

Awaits his son’s
phone call from the border
dogs and cats wail 

 

The moon is a favourite topic and kigo for the Haijin. The following haiku closes admirably with a hineri [twist]. 

 

A star shines bright
beside the crescent moon
she fakes a smile 

 

Deep wabi-sabi is invoked in some, the ancient strange eternally solitary man  reinstated in his unique cosmos.  

 

After the party
empty chairs in the lawn –
new moon and I 

 

The Haijin’s incurable insomnia appears too: yet there is a moon !  

 

Noisy birds
don’t let me sleep:
midnight moon 

 

There are some sensuous haiku with direct reference to the female anatomy .

 

Wet bodies of
bathing women:
full moon night 

 

Very strange and impossible metaphors too appear sometimes ~~

 

Squeaking
under the blue moon-
the dry sky 

 

Religious and ritualistic elements find a new expression in some Haiku. 

 

Vultures waiting
for the leftovers
of the sacrifice 

 

Also, Mosquitoes, solitude and waiting ~~

 

Waiting for the train
alone on the platform
swatting mosquitoes 

 

Sleepless nights again and again repeating  ~~

 

The long night passes
sleeplessly I deep-breathe –
mosquitoes in bed 

 

The terrible after effects of an earthquake is captured eloquently in the following ~~  

 

Days after the quake
staring at the rubble –
a homeless widow 

The well acts as a mirror for the village woman coming to draw waters ~~

 

In the well
studying her image
a woman 

 

Very pathetic scene of poverty as seen in some places in India also becomes a theme ~~

 

Searching food
in the street garbage
a dog and a girl 

 

The poet can also be rebellious and ironic smoking cannabis on Gandhi Jayanthi day at Sabarmathi itself !

 

Smoking cannabis
at the Sabarmathi –
2^nd October  

 

The whole vast ancient Indian idea of transmigration from life to life for ever is invoked in silent grandeur ~~  

 

Facing the sun
the lone flower
dying to bloom 

 

Explicitly humorous Haiku too find a place in the Haijin’s repertoire ~~ 

 

Alone
on the National Highway  
Hanuman   

 

A very simple curious observation becomes a beautiful haiku here with vast worlds unfolding in its hidden recesses ~~  

 

A bubble flying
from over the shaving brush
bursts on the mirror 

 

There are common experiences that turn into “aware” invoking haiku like this ~~ 

 

Disposable blades
one over the other –
dusty switch board  

 

Also, strange, experimental but animistically suggestive ones too appear occassionally ~~ 

 

A star in making –
but an island appears
the palm amuses 

 

The Haijin despite much sexual activity recognizes that ~~

 

The bed room altar
no substitute for temple
sacrifice of sex   

 

But He clearly recognizes that these passions are all fleeting and unruffled by it all the Buddha’s calm still is a possibility.   

 

Unruffled
by passions and clamours -
Buddha’s calm   

 

There are animal related ones like this neat shasei experience ~~ 

 

A crow pecking
at the ripe papaya and
another waiting  

 

This beautiful senryu is something many people would have seen many times!  

 

In the morning train 
sleeping on his feet
the newspaperman  

 

The Endless Ganges is his perpetual theme  ~~

 

Awaits the sunrise
in the chilly Ganges
a nude worshipper  

 

He also encounters visions eating the food of gods  ~~

 

Sees visions
eating food of gods -
mushroom  
 

 

Religious symbols too appear in some of the Haiku  ~~

 

On Christmas eve
santa claus takes leave- 
mist on chairs in pairs  

 

The contrast of flowers and the cross is beautifully indicated in this haiku  ~~

 

Standing
between flowers
Jesus on the cross  

 

Krishna too appears in this mythogrammatical-haiku  ~~

 

Krishna offering
parijata to Radha:
Narada looks on  

 

But still the pains of this earth cannot be overlooked  ~~

 

All night rain
the gaping roof
her shelter  

 

That does not forbid the beautiful vision of a rainy day  ~~

 

Sudden rain
on the way home -
a peacock  

 

Then we come to the Haiku with the title of the book which is symbolic of human existence in a deep way  ~~

 

Dancing
a few muddled crocs :
the river returns  

 

The book closes with a rainbow kigo Haiku  and a new hope  ~~  

 

In the changing hues
of rainbow in the east
sun and lightning 

eternally bridging the many worlds  ~~

 

Reflects the rainbow
in the mirror of water -
Yamuna bridge   

 

There are certain things we may specially observe in Prof. R.K Singh’s Haiku & Tanka poetry. They are not bound by hard and fast rules. Firstly, the syllable count rule is not adhered to. Haiku and senryu are not classified. The haiku themselves are of various types we may say, extending Susumu Takiguchi’s tentative classification: Neo-classical [ with a kigo and kireji ] ,Shintai[ New style ], Gendai [ poetic, ornamented ]  and even experimental ~ The haijin has not artificially kigo-ized nor kireji-zed his Haiku thus avoiding the temptation to tentori-fication.   

 

My only negative observation is that some of the explicitly erotic Haiku  weaken the texture of the book and create a little distracting feeling     

 

I also notice that one Haiku has appeared twice in the collection. [ end of page 52 and page 75 ] . This should have been observed and corrected!  

 

Due to inexplicable reasons this review of this book took too long for me to complete. This made me more intimate with the book and the author in an intrinsic sense.  If I had made another review of the same book, other Haiku may be included as examples, offering another perspective and verbal meandering perhaps invoking another symbolic journey  .

 

 

Review of Prof. RK Singh's Book

 

http://www.wonderhaikuworlds.com/posts/view/4986 

SILENCE: AWHITE DISTRUST translated into Spanish by Joseph Berolo

Silence: A white distrust   An experimental poem in linked form --Ram Krishna Singh June 2020    Silence: White distrust     ever evading happiness for the now- unfinished song    moonless  this november night livelier with stars and breathing silence perfumed with night queen   still lingers her scent on the linens drying in shadows   half painting palette and easel collect dust  in the studio painted silence of mothers   lemon tea- shade of her lipstick on my lip   last night's rain paves way for a clear sky this morning the breeze is cool and the sun adds a new hue to the spring   filling emptiness waves dance over each other- the sky meets the sealife   is beautiful when you enter another body...mind and become one   in each other  smelling the cleavage  crescent wanes   her name a soothing music in the mouth: I forget the pain in back I seek the sky in silence   zipping her back- hundreds of nights grow wings with wasp touch   intruding the darkness of bedroom a tree's silhouette: she whispers its masked presence and says no to making love   brightness of the star half-closed bedroom window: moon shies away   waking to a morning tainted with prayers on the toilet seat nude nature waves a dull sun smitten by the night's long eclipse   moon energy fills up the inner space- call to wake up the busyness  and weariness of now they toss about regulating their sleep by one another's   stain-dried lingerie reminds of the night's act- flowers of lips   hang it on the forehead: spine migrates   things get hairy, scary with body failure ailments pop up spirit dries up mind disconnects   hestitating to take the first step through- stands at the door   unhappy  with how I look and feel right now seek a best version and just look within   silk silence the sky measures  new cup of joy   in the white of night sighs for supreme delight steal tender pleasure manipulating wetness in bed unmask simple sin   greet the sun on the terrace- two roses   November morning-- too many thorns to reach the only rose and the tormenting thought that I am forsaken   stunted bud in the earthen pot- winter sun   choking air in a walled colony: two tired pigeons perch on overhead tank whisper pity on us   a robin whispers our talk in bed last night- another bird light switched off love sliding on window pane moon too shies away behind the bare tree   stolen truck in parking lot: they have a quickie   frozen in the icy wind my fingers she fears the chill on her cheeks   journeying on a late-running train squirrels frisk near track    if I die today it won't matter to any- I have no worth they all care for themselves search nearest in curved space  repeats daily in the mind my own story- a feature film   a couple of drinks and soft music to forget the year's hard days now welcome the new morning bid good bye to factious party   darkness of the heart bouts of quiet clashes: midnight oracle   visit Vinayak each day new prayers inside years old faces at the threshold hit their heads the dumb deity stays unmoved   visiting home- shadows of forgotten days on the wall   spiders' network between two photo frames bridge or bury sensations no longer spurt action in silence   on the terrace facing the sun an empty chair   black pigeons sitting in a row parapet cracked for seeds to die before they fly back cease growing new lines on the palms: broken bangles*   (*indicates widowhood in India)   I'm not alone waking up in the grave- angels await my rise to eternity my love's union again   noise of crackers monotony of light Diwali   4 a.m. a noisy start to Chhat puja: blaring songs from neighbourhood sweet smell of frying from kitchen    incense sticks perfume the air around- offering on altar   end of May- scorching heat follows rain and hail before iftaar this Friday prayer promises bliss   Easter Sunday- blood stains stick on the cross more bomb blastswearied winter   each night bed a living grave: drying breathing passage and lonely shadows delaying disaster dirt conscious everyday struggle: rising up   too small to explore the sea of the unknown: island existence breathing hell of darkness dreading hungry excursions   cleaning the remains of burnt out earthen lamps- dusky temple yard   source of salvation depository of sins no cake cutting in church promise of reaping  if we sow recovery seed    aching legs- nightly tension crowns moon sickness   an island between the head and fate lines bridges blackhole in life's labyrinth shadows move always ahead of me   after the discourse  beer and biryani in lunch- Happy Drinksgiving earthy body   and nightness of silence fear in mirror return to the river echoing hollowed sound    long waiting short consultation-  ophthalmologist   morning smog- an asthmatic with grandson coughing restlessly on the terrace even  a limping crow seeks fresh air     she stoops down writes her name on the sand waves return      dark alleys chaos on the road fear delays homeward move at nine lumpens lie in wait    in the street corner breeding maggots and vermin:  abandoned father     the wounds exit the pain of truth lingers under my sky savage head battles for vacuity, a victim        Good Friday clouds and wind without rain:  boasts of giving     full blue moon- divine channel from heavens illuminating arrival of Easter Sunday and April, the angel month     absorbing  microbes of her complaints poor hubby    before retiring swallow pills to mitigate her hackles that walk me through to death of desire for love in bed     pre-monsoon ramble wilderness in harmony- worlds within world      hail stones lashing mango florets my car too: I fear thunder squall and rain leaking roof and wetting bed   wild sugar cane no animals savour ageing monsoon     fishes swim weeds disheveled silent lake I inhale the city's garbage      sudden downpour--  even in sleep I worry about the virus    secret faces unmask in sleep I see signals through holes that hide the heat of birth  through printed rag in clods        a long golden net surges on the ocean tide- fishing memories      two-wheelers running on footpaths all roads blocked for pedestrians no way in Bangalore living hell    near her eyes signs of crow's feet: slaps of cold water  in the air   I expected romance- corona avoid her kiss and breathing too    with spring comes burial of romance: COVID-19     quarantined I clear my throat behind the face mask breathe in unknown viruses suffer new repressions    now lockdown cut off life: castration   Covid-19 reading the astral transit ceaseless lockdown over-sanitized hands playing ‘Stairway to Heaven'    her painting a Phryne on the wall- fear of touch     a sensualist   searching the spiritual shakes so many hands blathers academic worth offers pearls for the pigs    house arrest: full moon of April a shadow stirs       ridicule their exploring gaze veiled women with colours patterns and seismic movement      on the bed physical distancing- end of sex?      voiceless friends in aloneness of the room unread books human's unseen plenum my sympathetic nerves pre-morning mushrooms bloom on the pubes: dreamy arousal   self-renewing greenness of the tree blessed seed every passing day my limbs fade and fail    a drop of blood her no to sex for months: Lysistrata     soul's yearning resounding roar in the sky leo moon: heal, fire passion my dying cells vibrate   a hammer pounding my still body in the dark tube: MRI    with foreign sound I couldn't be a lasting poem- provisional body nude smell and white distrust play freedom in mounds of cloud dreamy waves gentle energy- new moon   astral sky new cycle of quest changed mindset a better version of self sublimation of love-life -R.K.SINGH   copyright: --Ram Krishna Singh

Silencio: Inocente desconfianza  + Un poema experimental en formato vinculado Ram Krishna Singh Junio 2020 Traducción & Interpretación de Joseph Berolo    Silencio: Inocente desconfianza   evadiendo siempre la felicidad del ahora canto inconcluso   noche sin  luna  esta de  noviembre vibrante de estrellas  y silencio jadeante perfumado de la noche reina    aún persiste su  perfume en las sábanas secándose en las sombras   a medio pintar paleta y atril recojen polvo en el estudio silencio maternal pintado te limón- tinte de su pintalabios en mi labio la lluvia de anoche aclaró el camino del dia esta madrugada  la brisa es fria y el sol agrega un  nuevo tinte  a la primavera llenando  el vacío   olas danzan una sobre otra- el cielo se une con el mar  es hermoso cuando uno penetra  otro cuerpo ... mente y se convierte en uno    cada uno olfateando  el menguado perfume del  escote  su nombre musica suavizante en los labios: he olvidado el dolor de espalda busco  espacio  en silencio   acaricio su espalda cientos de noches creciendo alas con   toque de avispa    intrusas  las sombras  en la alcoba la silueta de un árbol: ella susurra  su  enmascarada presencia y dice no a  hacer el amor    el destello de la estrella la ventana de la alcoba a medio cerrar: la timida luna se escapa   despierto a la madrugada contaminada con oraciones  la naturaleza desnuda en  una tasa de baño  saluda a un sol aburrido  consentido por el eclipse de la noche larga    energia lunar llena el espacio interior-  llama a despertar    el ajetreo y cansancio de ahora ellos dan vueltas venciendo el sueño     la lenceria manchada seca recuerda el sexo nocturno labios en flor  huellas en el ceño migración espinal  asunto serio da miedo que falle el cuerpo  surjan males se seque el espiritu se desconecte la mente   vacilante dar el primer paso- detenerse en la puerta   infeliz  de  cómo me veo y  siento ahora mismo bscando una mejor versión  y solo  mirando hacia dentro     un silencio de seda  mide el espacio, nueva copa de placer  en el seno de  la noche  gemidos de gusto supremo roban ternura al placer  manipulan la humedad  desenmascara  en el lecho  el pecado simple  dos rosas en la  terraza-  saludan al sol  madrugada de noviembre demasiadas espinas por brotar la única rosa  y el tormentoso pensamiento de que he sido traicionado-   brote atrofiado en la matera- sol de invierno  aire axfixiante  en la colonia amurallada: dos palomas cansadas trepadas en un tanque  gorjean su piedad por nosotros    un jilguero canta nuestras cuitas  de anoche en el lecho  otro pájaro  la luz apagada se deslizó  el amor por la ventana la luna también se escondió tras de un árbol desnudo   un camión robado de un parqueadero: alguien también tiene un rapido encuentro en el helado viento ella teme el helaje en sus mejillas    persiguiendo  un tren tardío las ardillas se escurren en la trocha    si hoy me muero- a nadie  le importará no tengo haber alguno que a otros interesa lo suyo  no el hallazgo de lo que ya está perdido  en un espacio agotado   diario repetir en la mente mi propia historia- película de estreno   un par de copas y música suave para olvidar los duros dias del año  dan la bienvenida  a la mañana nueva adiós le dicen a los partidos divididos  sombras del corazón brotes de choques calmados oráculo de media noche   visita diaria  a Vinayak   oraciones nuevas  caras viejas  en el umbral golpean sus cabezas los tontos dioses inconmovibles   se dejan visitar- sombras de olvidados dias  en los muros    red de telarañas entre  dos retratos  puente o sepultura  sensaciones ya no son  esfuerzo supremo en el silencio en la azotea frente al sol  una silla vacía  palomas negras  en hilera en un parapeto agrietado  abonan el pasto  con sus  deshechos  antes de volar en fila  sobre las palmas- -viudas      No estoy solo entre en la tumba  ángeles esperan mi despertar a la eternidad mi resurrección (1)   estallido de petardos monotonía de luz Diwali (2) 4 a.m. amanecer ruidoso a Chhat puja:(3) estruendosos cantos  de vecinos  suave  aroma  de fritura en la cocina    varitas de incienso  perfuman el aire  ofrenda en  el altar  final de mayo - sigue abrazador calor lluvia y granizo antes de iftaar  (4)  este viernes orar promete alivio   Domingo de Pascua-  manchas de sangre en  la cruz (5)    mas bombaas em el temible invierno   cada noche el lecho una tumba viviente:_ paso de un seco respirar   y sombras solitarias  deteniendo el desastre sucio consciente     lucha diaria  en auge poca  cosa para explorar el mar de lo desconocido: existencia de isla  respirando sombras infernales atrevidas  excursiones de hambre limpieza de restos de lámparas apagadas en el oscuro patio del templo  fuente de salvación  depositorio de pecados  no hay corte de  pastel  solo promesa  de cosecha si sembramos semillas de recuperación  extremidades adoloridas domina la tensión nocturna malestar lunar   una isla en la cabeza y las lineas  del destino puente negro en el  negro laberinto de la vida siempre adelante de mi  después del discurso cerveza y biryanI (6) al almuerzo feliz  libar de copas cuerpo terrenal     y nocturnos de silencio   miedo en el espejo regreso al rio hacuendo eco en el vacío     larga espera, consulta corta  oftamólogo    bruma de madrugada- un asmático con nieto tosiendo incesante  en la terraza un cuervo cojeando busca aire fresco   ella se agacha escribe su nombre en la arena  regresan las olas  pasadizos oscuros caos en la vía temor de demoras camino a casa  a las nueve  los marginados esperan en las esquinas alimentando gusanos y alimañas :    padre abandonado     las heridas brotan el dolor persiste bajo mi cielo el cerebro busca comprender,  una víctima     Viernes Santo nubes y viento sin lluvia: alardea  dar    una luna llena - canal divino del cielo iluminando la llegada del Domingo de Pascua   y abril, el mes angelical  absorbiendo   microbios de sus  reclamos,  pobre entretenimiento   antes de retirarse tragando pastillas para  calmar deseos  que me llevan a morir de ganas de hacer el amor      pre divagación de monsoon -  el desierto en armonía mundos dentro del mundo   piedras de granizo   fustigantes floretes  temo truenos, ráfagas y lluvia, goteras y cama mojada   caña de azucar salvaje  que ningun animal saborea monsoon envejecido  peces nadando malas yerbas despeinadas  silenciosa laguna inhalo la basura citadina      chubasco repentino-  aún dormido me preocupo  por el virus     rostros escondidos desenmascarado dormido   veo señales por entre los huecos que esconden el sueño del poeta (7) detrás de  los tapabocas         una larga red dorada surge en la marea- pescando memorias  sillas de rueda rodando por los pasadizos los caminos todos cerrados  nada de peatones  infierno vivo en Bangalore    cerca de sus ojos señales de patas de gallo: latigazos de agua fria en el aire   Yo esperaba el  romance- corona apura evitar su beso y respirar también   cuando llegue la primavera  funeral del romace: COVID-19       cuarentena limpio mi garganta respiro detrás de  la máscara  desconocidos viruses sufro nuevas represiones,  ahora encierro corte de vida: castración   Covid-19 leyendo el transito astral   incesante encierro sobrelavadas manos jugando  "Escalera al Cielo"   Su pintura   a Phryne(8) en la pared- da miedo tocar   búsqueda sensual de lo espiritual estrechar muchas manos  tonterias sin valor académico ofrenda de perlas a los cerdos     arresto domiciliario : luna llena de abril una sombra despierta  el ridiculo  mujeres veladas de  mirar exploratorio  con figuras coloreadas y movimiento sísmico  en el lecho distanciadas - fin del sexo?  amigos sin voz en la soledad de un cuarto   libros sin leer plenaria humana nunca vista mis atrofiados nervios  preamanecer de hongos florecer en el  pubis: sueño   de ereccion   auto renovación verdor en el árbol, semilla bendita cada dia mis  extremidades desmayan  y fallan    una gota de sangre ella meses de no al sexo : Lysistrata (9)    ansiedad del alma resonante  rugir en el aire una de Leo:(10) curación, mis celulas  vibrantes pasión agonizante  golpeteo de un martillo sonre  mi cuerpo quieto eu un tubo negro: MRI      sonido extraño no puedo ser un último poema- cuerpo provisional olor desnudo inocente confianza jugando a ser libre en cumulos de nieve   olas soñadoras energia gentil- luna nueva  cielo astral nueva ronda de preguntas orden mental cambiado mejor  versión  de mi  mismo, sublimación de amor-vida     R.K.SINGH   copyright: --Ram Krishna Singh     http://www.aveviajera.org/nacionesunidasdelasletrasuniletras/id1406.html